


A perpetual feeling

by Khalehla



Series: skin2skin [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: 2009 U17 boys friendship, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 22:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8302954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla/pseuds/Khalehla
Summary: “Man, you two are awful,” Yunus said, tossing fries at them. “You were sickeningly sweet already before you realised you were soulmates, now I can actually feel myself getting hyperglycemia just sitting next to you.”--Or Bernd Leno's guide to being in love with your soulmate





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Skin to skin](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7326964), told from Bernd's point of view. Will have some new friends, familiar faces, and introducing: Max-Benjamin.
> 
> Prequel to [A father's son.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7036150/chapters/17224054)
> 
> Title taken from a Sanober Khan poem.

“What’s the difference?” I asked him. “Between the love of your life, and your soulmate?”  
“One is a choice, and one is not.”

  
― Tarryn Fisher, Mud Vein

 

If anyone asked Bernd what it was like to have a soulmate, he’d shrug, not really knowing what to say. Trying to describe what it was like to someone not in the same situation was difficult, because all the explanations sounded so cliché and could really be used by anyone in a loving, fulfilling relationship. And the thing was, ever since he realised that he had a soulmate, when Marc-André (even though he didn’t know it was him at the time) had injured himself skiing, it’s all he’d ever wanted. He knew all the stories though, so he also knew just how tiny the chances of meeting his soulmate would be, but he had never stopped hoping, never quite giving up on the fantasy that fairy tales could still happen.

Meeting Marc had been bittersweet, and falling in love had come with the gut-wrenching realisation that he couldn’t have both, so he’d chosen reality over fantasy because he could at least have one of them. He’d been happy, more than he ever thought he could be despite being heartbroken at the same time; and it would have been enough, except there was always something there, something holding him back from jumping into a relationship with Marc wholeheartedly. Bernd didn’t understand why at the time because Marc had been all he was looking for - sweet, down-to-earth, intelligent, funny - and it was confusing him why he kept feeling like it just wasn’t the right time yet.

But then just before his 24th birthday, his miracle had happened, and everything had suddenly and blissfully fallen into place; the realisation that Marc-André was also his soulmate, the breathtaking knowledge that he could now have both, the man he had fallen in love with _and_ the one destined for him, had been like a dam bursting, and before he could question it, he had practically moved into Marc’s tiny studio.

And Marc’s studio had been exactly that: tiny. Given that they were both around 6 feet tall, they could barely stand together in the kitchenette without bumping into each other, but although he had much more room in his apartment and Julian was a great flatmate, he liked having the privacy of Marc’s space. The first few exhilarating months of discovering each other through the lens of being soulmates meant that at the beginning of their relationship, they’d spent most of their time wrapped in each other, and Bernd was slightly self-conscious about other people seeing him reduced to a completely smitten, love-struck version of himself.

His family had practically thrown a party when Bernd had told them, making him take Marc the next time he came down for a visit, pumping the other blonde full of food and showing off Bernd’s embarrassing photos while he spent the whole afternoon grinning like a walking hearts-eyes emoji.

Marc’s mom had actually burst into _tears_ the first time Bernd came home with Marc to meet his parents.

Their close mutual friends had been a ton worse, cheering loudly and exchanging money the next time they all went out for dinner, because apparently they had all been taking bets on when he and Marc would figure it out.

“Of course we knew,” Marco scoffed. “How many other people do we know have soulmates and have letters tattooed on their wrists?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Marc-André asked once the shock had worn out.

“It wasn’t our place to say,” Shkodran said, smiling at them gently. “We figured there had to be a reason why it took time for you to realise you were actually soulmates; and be honest, it was nicer finding out yourselves than hearing it from us, right?”

“True,” Bernd said, smiling at Marc shyly.

“Man, you two are _awful_ ,” Yunus said, tossing fries at them. “You were sickeningly sweet already _before_ you realised you were soulmates, now I can actually feel myself getting hyperglycemia just sitting next to you.”

“Shut up,” Bernd mumbled, blushing bright red but not able to stop himself from grinning when Marc leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, making Yunus throw more fries at them as their friends laughed.

“We really are really happy for you,” Mario added. “You both deserve to be this happy.”

Bernd hadn’t said anything to that, but he totally agreed with Mario.

He had been overwhelmed by how happy everyone seemed to be for them, even though they all knew that they still had to navigate the challenges and intricacies of relationships. There was no quick fix or miracle cure for problems just because they were soulmates, and even though they probably argued less than was the norm in a healthy relationship, they still had their differences of opinion regarding a lot of things. Like their current living situation.

Bernd would have been happy to move straight in together, but Bernd’s place was too far from where Marc worked for it to be convenient for him to stay, and Marc’s studio was just too small for the two of them. Bernd had wanted them to find a flat as soon as possible knowing that he could easily find someone to take over his lease, but Marc still had a few more months on his place and the convenience of the location made him loathe to really want to move. They argued about it, of course. Bernd felt frustrated because Marc seemed to be happy for them to stay as they were, apparently not wanting to make the effort to take their relationship more seriously. Marc had been bewildered that Bernd felt the need to rush things when they could seriously take their time and enjoy things since they already knew they were it for each other. It had taken months (and the occasional private tears) for them to compromise, and in the end, it had taken one of those defining life moments to make them both realise that their argument hadn’t really been so dire and they wanted the same thing after all.

Bernd had woken up like every other day, sleepily making his way to the kitchen for coffee before tackling his morning routine. Because he was usually still half-asleep when he got ready for work, it wasn’t until he was drying off from his shower that he noticed something was wrong. It was habit now to look at his wrists when he was getting dressed, and at first it didn’t quite register with him that the cuts on his forearms weren’t there when he went to bed last night. It takes a few seconds for his brain to finally wake up, and he sees the large, angry purple gash running up his right arm, not to mention a dozen or more smaller cuts covering both hands. He has to stop himself from hyperventilating when he realises what probably happened, and he quickly pulls on his clothes before rushing for his phone.

Marc isn’t picking up any of his calls, and Bernd spends the next ten minutes debating with himself on what to do. In the end he sends an email to his manager to say he wasn’t coming in, then heads for the hospital that Marc worked at. When he gets there, no-one can tell him if anything had happened, and he’s just about ready to scream in frustration when Jean-Marcel walks in.

“Thank God!” Bernd breaths, rushing to Marc’s brother. “Do you have any news? No-one wants to tell me anything!”

“What do you mean? I would have thought that you’d be the first to know,” Marcel says in confusion.

“I don’t know anything!” Bernd says, starting to panic. “I woke up like this-,” and he shows Marcel his arms, “and rushed here because Marc wasn’t picking up his phone. I can’t even confirm with them if anything’s happened to him!”

“You mean no-one called you?” Marcel demands in surprise.

“No!”

“That’s not right!” Marcel mutters. He makes his way to the reception area, Bernd trailing behind him. “I’m here for Marc-André ter Stegen, please. I got a call.”

“Of yes,” the nurse says. “He was taken in a couple of hours ago; you should be able to visit him now.”

“Good,” Bernd says, ready to rush out as soon as they got the room number.

“Not both of you,” the nurse warns, obviously remembering Bernd from not 5 minutes ago. “Unless you’re family or one of his emergency contacts, visiting hours start at 10am.”

“I can vouch for him,” Marcel says quickly, seeing that Bernd is ready to explode. “He’s my brother’s partner - Marc will even say so when we get there.”

The nurse frowns at them both. “There’s a ward nurse there and the duty doctor; if you’re brother’s not awake to verify what you said, he won’t be allowed in.”

“That’s fine,” Marcel agrees quickly.

Marc is awake when they got to the room, already arguing with the nurse about having to be admitted overnight when he had already been patched up.

“Look!” Marc exclaims when Bernd and Marcel walk in. “They’ve come to take me home!”

“And you are…?” the nurse asks them.

“Jean-Marcel, his brother? I got a call.”

“And you?” she asks Bernd.

“Bernd Leno; _not_ Marc’s brother _or_ his emergency contact, because apparently, someone forgot to update his details!”

Marc-André flinches at the anger evident in Bernd’s tone, then turns to reassure the nurse that Bernd was indeed supposed to be there. “I actually did forget,” Marc admits sheepishly, “but Bernd should be my first contact now.”

“Boyfriend?” the nurse asks.

Marc nods, then turns to Bernd to ask, “how did you know if no-one called you?”

“How do you _think?_ ” Bernd demands through clenched teeth, making everyone wince. “Do you think I enjoyed waking up to _this_ this morning?” He sticks his arm out to show the marks, no doubt identical to the ones hidden by Marc’s cast. The nurse’s eyes widen in realisation. “And you weren’t picking up your phone so I came, but when I got here, no-one wanted to tell me anything!” He breathes deeply and clenches his fists in effort to get his temper under control.

“Sorry,” Marc mumbles contritely when Bernd seems to have calmed down.

“I can update your records now if you want, Marc?” the nurse offers sympathetically, and Marc nods quickly.

“So does that mean you don’t need me here?” Marcel finally asks when it’s clear Bernd isn’t going to yell spectacularly anymore.

“Yeah,” Bernd sighs tiredly. “I already told my boss I needed the day off, so you can go to work. Thanks for talking them into letting me come up.”

“No worries,” Marcel replies, patting Bernd on the back then patting Marc awkwardly on the leg. “I’ll let mom know you’re okay and that Bernd's here so she doesn’t panic.”

“Thanks,” Marc mumbles as his brother leaves, leaving just them alone. There’s a small tense silence before Marc tentatively asks, “Can you take me home and yell at me there? They didn’t know about you so didn’t want me alone just in case I had concussion after all, but I shouldn’t need to stay overnight if you’re home with me.”

Bernd stares at him for a few seconds, taking in that despite the sling and scratches on his face and the possibility of concussion, Marc actually had very few other injuries. He’d been so worried, so scared that something had happened to Marc, and then finding out that Marc had neglected to change his emergency contact details at work had only made things worse because no-one would tell him anything! And although it had been irrational at the time, he’d funneled all his fear and turned it into anger, because that was easier to deal with; but now relief that Marc was actually fine has drained his anger and all he really wants to do _is_ go home where he can at least keep an eye on the other blonde.

“Only if they say yes,” he agrees, sighing some more.

“Bernd, I’m sorry,” Marc says reaching out to grasp his arm, tugging at him so that Bernd is sitting on the bed with him. Bernd knows how genuinely sorry Marc is, so decides to shrug it off, finally pulling Marc into a loose embrace, relishing in the physical contact that's proof that Marc is safe and whole, albeit a little banged up.

“I know,” he says, pulling back slightly to bump their foreheads together. “Let’s get you home.”

They start looking for a place for them soon after that, and they move into a small one bedroom apartment only a fifteen minute drive to the hospital and a short seven minute walk to the station. It’s smaller than the flat Bernd had shared with Julian, but nearly twice as big as Marc’s studio, and perfect for just the two of them.

A month after they settle in, they decide to have a small housewarming party and they somehow manage to squeeze nearly thirty people into their living room and tiny balcony where the equally tiny portable barbecue is set up. Later, after everyone has left and they’ve done the minimum of clean-ups, they’re lying on the couch, slightly buzzed and pleasantly mellow, and Bernd is running his hand lightly through Marc’s hair as Marc rests his head on Bernd's chest. Bernd catches his soulmate up on a couple of their friends that Marc didn’t have time to really sit down and chat with that night; the other blonde hums occasionally, the only proof Bernd has that Marc hasn’t fallen asleep yet.

“And Nico said he’s gonna come up more often to visit us now that we actually have our own place and he can crash on our couch.”

“We’ve only been here for a month and your best friend’s already lined us up as his free hotel?” Marc laughs lightly.

“He was complaining that we didn’t have the party sooner,” Bernd chuckles. “I think there was a festival on about three weeks ago that he went to but ended up staying in this dodgy hostel because all the affordable hotels were booked out already.”

“I’m only just getting used to us having our own place,” Marc says, “I don’t think I’m ready for guests staying with us yet.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like I wasn’t practically living in your shoebox of a studio before,” Bernd points out. “The only difference now is that the bedroom is actually separate from the living room.”

“Not the only difference,” Marc mumbles lightly, and the tone in the other blonde’s voice makes Bernd think that maybe Marc didn’t mean for him to hear that; this makes him shake himself out of his languid rest and pay more attention.

“Well, I suppose we have a bigger bed now,” Bernd says guardedly, “and we had to buy furniture because we didn’t really own any before, but is there really that much difference?”

There’s a pause before Marc says, “I wasn’t talking about the furniture.”

“I didn’t think you were,” Bernd says slowly. “Wanna tell me what you were actually talking about?”

There’s a longer pause now, and just when Bernd thinks Marc isn’t going to elaborate, he finally says, “you were staying _with_ me before, but you didn’t _live_ with me. It’s different now.”

And Bernd thinks he understands. “It’s because it’s our space now?”

“Something like that,” Marc agrees, but Bernd thinks there’s something more important than them moving in together.

“I get you’re not used to having a flat mate, but I think I was over enough and long enough that you wouldn’t have to really adjust to us living together full-time now. And I’ll try not crowd you too much so you always have your space.” Bernd thinks this is important, because even though _he_ was content to always have his soulmate within touching distance, he can understand that Marc may not be like that; not that many people were comfortable with that type of co-dependency.

“It’s not really that,” Marc says, shaking his head lightly before turning enough so he can place a breathy kiss on Bernd’s chest. “I’m already pretty much used to always having you around now. It’s just, it’s just a bit intense, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it before.”

Okay, so that hurt a little. “I’m sorry if you thought I was pressuring you into moving,” Bernd says, taking Marc’s hand and placing a kiss to the letter on his wrist as an apology.

“It wasn’t that you were pressuring me,” Marc disagrees, pulling their clasped hands down to also place a lingering kiss on Bernd’s wrist. “I just had to deal with everything that would come with it all, and maybe I’m not 100% ready yet, but I’m getting there, and sometimes I’ll be a bit withdrawn, but that’s only because I’m still dealing with it. I _want_ to be here, okay? Just give me a bit more time.”

“However long you need,” Bernd agrees quickly, his heart still aching slightly. “And if you ever need more space, just tell me, I can take a hint; I understand if you want to be alone.”

Marc brings Bernd’s hand back up to his lips, the kiss fiercer, this time. “You don’t understand,” he laughs raggedly. “I don't need _space_. What I’m trying to say is that _I need you._  It hurts sometimes, knowing how much I need you in my life. And scary.” And Marc sounds so hesitant, so unsure, that the ache in Bernd's heart gets stronger. “I didn’t think it would be like this; I thought having a soulmate would just be like other relationships - but just having a special connection that most people don’t have. And I don’t even know if it _is_ because you’re my soulmate or maybe it’s just because it’s _you_ , but it scares me how I can love you so much that I can’t breath sometimes, and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you now.”

The whole time Marc’s been talking Bernd tried his best to keep his breathing even, keep his emotions under control, and he’s succeeded mostly, letting the other blonde say what he needed to say without interruption, trying just to be the listening and supportive ear that he’s meant to be. Now, though, he can’t; can’t stop the silent tears from leaking out of the corner of his eyes, making tracks down his temples and soaking the cushion underneath this head.

He had no idea that Marc felt this way, that the other blonde was just as terrified as he was about needing someone so much in their life that it was easier to believe that this feeling wasn’t real. Despite the fact that they both knew that they were soulmates, they hadn’t actually gotten around to talking about what it really meant for the both of them in a way that was deeper than the surface knowledge that they were somehow meant to be together. And it had been enough that they were in love, that they had chosen each other before they knew about the soulmate connection, and it seems now they were harbouring the same fears all this time.

“But then after the accident, things changed,” Marc continues softly. “You were so angry at me, so pissed that I forgot to make you my primary contact; and for the first time, I think I could actually see that maybe you wanted to be in my life just as much as I needed you in it.”

Bernd can’t stop the sob that escapes him then, can’t help but clench the hand that was still slowly carding through Marc’s hair. “You oblivious, dense idiot,” Bernd says, laughing brokenly. “And you’re supposed to be the intelligent one.”

This makes Marc sit up to frown at him in confusion, and Bernd sits up as well.

“How could you think that I would want to be anywhere but with _you?_ ” Bernd asks, pulling Marc closer until they are practically nose-to-nose. “I _love_ you, and I chose to love you even before I knew we were soulmates - doesn’t that tell you how much I want to be with you? Even if we didn’t end up getting our own place, it’s only ever going to _be_ you.”

Marc’s eyes widen in wonder, and Bernd leans in for a short but fierce kiss.

“You’re wrong you know,” he says softly, resting their foreheads together. “I _do_ understand what it’s like to need someone so much that just knowing they’re alive makes you happy. That’s why I was so pissed off at you before - if something happened to you and I didn’t know, I don’t know what I’d do, either.”

“I’m sorry,” Marc whispers, wiping gently at the tears that are falling again, his own eyes shining with moisture. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I just forgot, that’s all.”

“I know,” Bernd says, brushing their lips together again. “And I was more shit-scared than angry; but you know that already.”

“Yeah,” Marc breathes softly. “I would have been pissed if it was the other way around as well.”

For the next few minutes they just sit there, breathing together, taking in the emotions and confessions and the joy in knowing that they needed and wanted just as intensely as the other. When Marc-André tugs him towards the bedroom, Bernd goes easily, undressing quickly. They love slowly, deliberately, more intimately than even their first time, washing away the last remaining doubts and insecurities with promises of forever whispered through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and concrit are very much appreciated ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I did some minor edits with names but nothing that would affect the story.

“Have you ever felt really close to someone—

So close that you can’t understand why you and the other person have two separate bodies, two separate skins?”

_—Nancy Garden_

 

Bernd is in pain and wants to die just a little bit. He’d probably want to die a bit more, but he hazily remembered that Marc-André made him drink a ton of water before finally letting him fall into bed last night, and despite needing to pee like the world was going to end if he didn’t empty his bladder that very moment, he’s appreciative enough to realise it could be a lot worse. He feels like hell, and probably looks it as well.

Marc, on the other hand, looks disappointingly sober, sitting up in bed and reading a novel.

“Here, take this,” Marc says when Bernd crawls back into bed and tries to suffocate himself into his boyfriend’s shirt.

“Agh,” Bernd groans, but dutifully swallows the pills and drinks the water before snuggling into Marc again. He can feel fingers running through his hair, and it’s soothing and calming and he’s just about ready to drop off to sleep again, when he suddenly remembers something.

“We need to be somewhere?” he asks Marc, frowning sleepily.

“Lunch at Marcel’s.”

Bernd groans again. If it were one of their friends, Bernd would be tempted to suggest postponing, but family get togethers were a must and although he knew Marc’s family absolutely loved him, he wasn’t about to jeopardise his standing as “favourite son” (“I can’t believe she likes Bernd better than us!” Jean-Marcel had mock-cried to Marc last Christmas when Renate had given Bernd the last of the stollen. Bernd had shoved the piece into his mouth before either of the brothers could steal it from him) just because he was slightly hung over.

“Can I sleep some more?” Bernd asks, not actually knowing what time it is and mentally preparing to have to haul himself out of bed and shower.

“Of course you can,” Marc chuckles. “I’ll wake you up half an hour before we have to go.”

Bernd hums in relief, then shoves his hand underneath Marc’s shirt so he can feel the warmth of his boyfriend’s skin against his palm, letting the gentle thud of Marc-André’s heart and tangible feeling of love lull him back to sleep.

By the time they’re in the car and on their way, Bernd actually feels semi-human, the extra three hours of sleep helping with the headache, his appetite has come back, and he’s practically starving by the time they reach Marc’s brother’s house.

“Just in time,” Renate says, as she gives both him and Marc a kiss before shooing them to the kitchen. “Marc, help your brother with the salad, Bernd, take the plates to the table please.”

“Yes mom,” they both say, and Bernd starts at the unconscious slip, looking around to see if anyone else noticed. No-one seems to be paying attention; Jean-Marcel and his fiancée Denise are passing Marc all the salad ingredients while Marc’s parents are arranging the tray of meats on the table. Bernd breathes a small sigh of relief, then takes the plates and cutlery to the dining table just as he’s been asked.

“So what’s the occasion?” Marc asks when they’ve all got food on their plates.

“Did you forget it’s your birthday in a couple of weeks?” Jean-Marcel asks with a lift of his eyebrows. “We know you guys are going away that week, so we thought early celebrations is better than late since mom and dad are going away as well when you guys get back.”

“Oh,” Marc blinks. “We could have celebrated next week.”

“We have a family thing and fittings for the wedding,” Denise apologises, “sorry. It’s the only free weekend I have.”

“It’s okay,” Marc shrugs. “No big deal.”

“So who chose Norway for your holiday?” Erich asks.

“Bernd,” Marc rolls his eyes. “Because apparently I need to live a little.”

Marcel laughs because they all know full well that before meeting Bernd, Marc’s idea of adventure was going out clubbing all night after doing a double shift at work. “So what do you have planned?” he asks.

“We’re doing a five day kayaking and rafting tour,” Bernd grins. “Then if Marc is still alive at the end of it, they have canyoning at the cabin we’re staying at as well.”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Denise says. “It’s good you’re trying something new, Marc, something more adventurous.”

“I _am_ adventurous!” Marc protests. “I go skiing!”

“You’re still on the baby slopes,” Erich points out.

“Am not!” Marc protests some more when Bernd laughs loudly.

“That’s more because Marc’s a klutz rather than choice,” Marcel grins. “He doesn’t actually have the coordination to do any steep slopes.”

“Stop picking on me,” Marc pouts, shoving potatoes into his mouth. “It’s my _birthday_ lunch.”

“Awww,” Marcel coos, leaning over to pinch Marc’s cheek and earning a slap on the hand. “Ouch! That hurt!”

“Serves you right,” Marc mutters, trying to slap him again.

“Marc, stop hitting your brother! Marcel, stop teasing your brother!” Renate half growls, turning to Bernd and Denise who are laughing at the siblings. “Honestly, these two, I raised them better than this!”

“I’m sure it’s not your fault, mom,” Denise says.

“I agree,” Bernd nods.

“Traitor,” both Marc and his older brother say at the same time, making Denise and Bernd laugh some more.

“Bernd, do you want a beer?” Erich asks, standing up. “How about you, Denise?”

“Just a soda, thanks,” Denise grins

“What about us?” Marcel asks indignantly as his dad walks to the fridge. “I want a beer, too.”

“Alcohol is for adults,” Erich says calmly as he hands Bernd and Denise their drinks. “Not for children.”

Denise snorts in laughter, spitting her Coke all over Marcel as she turns her face away in an attempt to not spit on the food, triggering another round of laughter and making Bernd almost choke on his beer.

“You deserve that,” Marc mutters while he pounds Bernd on the back in an insincere attempt to help.

“Stop that!” Bernd chokes out, still laughing, trying to push Marc’s hands away.

“Honestly,” Renate sighs, shaking her head. “All a bunch of children still.”

Neither of the brothers do anything for the rest of the lunch to prove their mother wrong.

“You’re like an overexcited puppy,” Marc-André is laughing at him a week later as Bernd presses his nose to the plane window, watching their descent into Oslo airport.

“Come on, we’ve been planning this for ages! Don’t tell me you aren’t excited either!”

They’d decided to do something joint for their birthdays and anniversary this year and Bernd had been so happy when Marc agreed to do something adventurous, spending the weeks since his birthday choosing the perfect place and planning all their activities. They were now only literally a train trip away from the camp, and Bernd wanted to check out all the other facilities before they did their first rafting course tomorrow.

“A little,” Marc admits, “but also a little nervous - you know this isn’t really my thing.”

“Don’t worry,” Bernd says, grinning, “I’ll look after you.”

He doesn’t end up needing to, which surprises both of them, because Marc ends up taking to rafting and all the other water activities like a natural. They laugh about it afterwards, and despite having fallen out twice and both coming out of their five day course with multiple (identical) cuts and bruises, Marc is already suggesting they come back next summer to do more advanced courses.

“I’ve created a monster!” Bernd laughs when they pack up the night before they have to leave.

“Okay I admit it’s a lot more fun than I thought it would be,” Marc says. “Who’d have thought I’d be good at these dangerous sports you’re so into. Must be the soulmate thing.”

“Looks like it,” Bernd smiles indulgently.

Because they’d gotten so used to seeing each other’s marks on their skin, they’d forgotten what it looked like to other people, and when Bernd’s brother picks them up from Stuttgart airport to spend a couple of days with Bernd’s family, they’re not prepared for Daniel’s reaction.

“What in the world happened to the two of you!?” he demands when they jump in the car.

“Nothing,” Bernd says, confused. “I told you we were going rafting.”

“Rafting, yes,” Daniel agrees, “but you two look like you did a special ops training course!”

“Oh!” Marc-André says after finally realising what Bernd’s brother was talking about. “We fell out a couple of times and I got pretty banged up yesterday while we were canyoning.”

Daniel shakes his head. “I sometimes forget about the whole soulmate thing,” he admits. “Honestly, you two need to do something about that or else you’re going to be doing a hell of a lot explaining until the bruises fade.”

Bernd’s entire family agree.

“What _happened?_ ” Rosa cries when she sees them. “Why do you both look like _that?_ ”

“It’s fine, mom,” Bernd sighs. “It actually looks a lot worse than it is.”

“I’ll say,” Viktoria agrees, squinting at them. “How do you two tell who owns which bruise?”

“Depends which ones actually hurt?” Bernd shrugs.

“I mean the only time we got to see them was when we took the helmets off and we weren’t covered with dirt and leaves anymore,” Marc explains, “so who knows?”

“This one is yours from yesterday,” Bernd says, pointing to the gash and small bruise above his right eyebrow.

“Oh yeah,” Marc winces, touching the still painful lump on his head, surprised he didn’t get concussion when he practically head-butted the cliff.

“When you get back to Düsseldorf, go to the department store and look for a make-up stand and buy some good quality foundation,” Bernd’s sister-in-law tells them helpfully. “You’ll need to cover that up and you should ask for proper help to get it right.”

“I guess so,” Bernd agrees.

They don’t follow Viktoria’s advice immediately, though, and Bernd goes to work on Monday to get the same reaction from his workmates as his family gave him.

“What in the world happened to you?” Joshua asks him as soon as walks in the office. “Did you get into a fight?”

“No,” Bernd sighs. “Me and Marc went rafting last week - remember I told you?”

“Yeah, but why do you look like that? I’m pretty sure rafting is a little dangerous, but you look like you spent more time in the actual rapids than doing the rafting!”

“Not all of these are mine,” Bernd says when he finally realises that he’d never told the young intern that his boyfriend actually happened to be his soulmate as well. “60% of these are actually Marc’s.”

Joshua blinks at him, then his eyes widen. “You have a _soulmate?_ ”

“Yeah,” Bernd grins, still giddy about it even after all this time. “I forget sometimes that not everyone knows about it.”

“Wow! That explains everything!”

Which reminds Bernd of something. “You should come out with us next time we have drinks. I’ll introduce you to Marc and my friends. Some of them I play Tuesday night football with, so if you’re interested in playing, it will be good to meet the boys first.”

He had a little bit of a soft spot for the younger man, because he knew what it was like to be just one of many interns in such a big corporation, and Joshua reminded Bernd so much of himself: growing up in Baden-Württemberg but choosing to go away for their internship to better his chances of getting a job. They’d actually bonded over their similarities, amazed at the odds of them meeting each other and having so much in common, and Bernd was looking forward to introducing Joshua to his friends since the younger man was still quite new to the region.

“Hey thanks! That sounds like a great idea!” Joshua says, thankful.

Bernd just smiles at him as he starts his work day.

Bernd gets a text from Marc at lunchtime, and as expected, his workmates at the hospital had been worried about him when he came into work as well, so they both decide to go to the department store the next day after work, since Bernd normally left a little early for football anyway, but this week he’d have to skip it for some makeup shopping instead.

It’s not an experience he really wants to repeat.

They’d been standing at the M.A.C counter for the past five minutes staring at the ridiculous amount of product on display before Marc-André had given up and suggested they call Viktoria for advice.

Viktoria, because she was evil when she wasn’t being an amazing sister-in-law, laughs, then suggests they ask one of the make-up artists to do some colour matching. Marc cringes when Bernd tells him what they had to do, but dutifully asks the next free person walking around with one of those black aprons for help.

Her tag read “Anya”, and she lights up like a Christmas tree when Marc gets her attention, then frowns when he tells her what they’re there for; her eyes narrow at Bernd as though she was ready to beat him up for daring to mar Marc’s skin.

“We went rafting last week,” Marc tries to explain before she could punch Bernd’s lights out, “and we fell out a couple of times.”

She finally looks at Bernd properly, then does a double-take, looking between them in confusion when she notices that both of them have identical bruises.

“Soulmates,” Bernd explains shortly.

Anya’s _aww_ was the typical reaction they got whenever they let people know about their relationship, and she has one of the most perfect “hearts-eyes” expressions they’d seen since they got together. Bernd only just manages to stop from rolling his eyes.

“We were told to ask for a, uh, colour match?” Bernd asks.

Anya tips her head to the side, humming as she regards them. “You’re both practically the same shade, so you can probably just grab one bottle until the bruises fade. Liquid okay?”

Marc and Bernd exchange glances. “Ahhh…”

Anya grins. “Okay let me ask a more appropriate question; how much time do you want to spend every morning covering that up?”

“As little as possible; I usually start work at 6 and I’m not a morning person,” Marc says quickly.

“Well, if you wanted all the bruises to disappear I’d say _make_ time, but I’m going to assume that you only want enough coverage to stop people staring at you?”

They both nod at her.

“Okay.” Anya looks around the store until she spotted what she needed, then drags a couple of stools over to free makeup centre and motioned for them to sit down.

Bernd had never worn makeup before in his life, so he thought that the whole process of colour matching was interesting but confusing and they ended up with two bottles: foundation and concealer, Anya insisting that the latter was also necessary. In the end, after a fifteen minute lesson on how to apply correctly, they were finally ready to go, appropriately stocked and not at all confident on what to do.

But Anya must have known exactly what she was talking about, because at work the next day, Joshua does a double-take when Bernd sits down at his desk.

“Wow, you heal fast!” Joshua says, peering at him.

“Nope,” Bernd disagrees. “That’s all makeup. Foundation _and_ concealer, so good coverage.”

“Ahhh…” Joshua blinks.

Bernd grins. “No idea either, but we paid a ton for it and apparently it’s working.”

“Well, you did come to work on Monday looking like you lost a boxing match,” Joshua points out. “Your boyfriend is wearing it too?”

“Yeah. If it was only me, I probably wouldn’t care too much, but Marc can’t have patients freaking out, and if he comes to work looking worse than they do, they probably will.”

“Fair enough,” Joshua nods, going back to his seat but turning to Bernd as he boots his computer. “So any plans for this weekend that don’t involve thrills and pain?”

“Nah,” Bernd smiles. “Marc’s working on Sunday so it’s a quiet one. You?”

“Nothing much, just going to Munich for a short visit.”

For some reason, Joshua blushes lightly, and this makes Bernd curious. “Oh? Anyone special you’re visiting there?” Bernd already knew that Joshua wasn’t from Bavaria, so he could be meeting up with his old university friends.

Joshua ducks his head, blushing some more. “Um, yeah, gonna go visit, my, um, boyfriend,” he manages to get it.

“Awesome,” Bernd says. “Did you meet at uni? It must be hard living so far away; how often do you get to see each other?”

“Usually once a month, sometimes twice. I try to visit my parents at least once a month, too, and sometimes Julian comes as well and stays with me.”

Bernd smiles because Joshua looks so smitten talking about his boyfriend and Bernd thinks that’s what he must have looked like when he and Marc first got together. “Julian’s never come up to visit you?”

“He’s still studying so he’s not got a lot of free time on the weekends,” Joshua explains. “But during summer break he’ll be driving up and we’re going to do a roadtrip to Belgium and the Netherlands.”

“Well, make sure you let us know when he’s here so we can meet him as well.”

Joshua’s Julian ends up coming to visit three weeks after Joshua’s trip to Munich, apparently miraculously having a weekend free between assessments, and Bernd and Marc double date with them a couple of times. He isn’t surprised really when they all get along like a house on fire since they all have the same laid back personalities, so when Bernd and Marc drive down to visit Bernd’s family two months later, Joshua arranges his visit to his parents at the same time, and the four of them spend the weekend hanging out in Baden-Württemberg. They become such good friends over the ensuing year that Bernd is the first person Joshua confides in when he applies for a permanent position with the company.

“I was going to apply for the branch in Munich,” Joshua tells him when they have drinks after work. “But Ju managed to land a one year internship next year with Deutsche Bank in Frankfurt, and so we’re going to stay.”

“Tell Ju I said congratulations! Is he going to be based there or is one of you going to do the long commute in between?”

“No, it’s just too far. We’ll see each other on the weekend, and Frankfurt is closer than Munich, so it will be okay.”

“Why don’t you apply in Frankfurt as well?” Bernd asks, curious. “We have an office there as well.”

“I did,” Joshua confirms. “And Dortmund and Cologne, too, but I’ve been told I’ll probably get a better chance of being offered a position here because I did my internship here.”

“That’s true,” Bernd nods, because he’d been in the same position after all. “And if Ju likes it in Frankfurt then you’ll decide when to move?”

“Probably. I don’t want to jump ahead of myself just yet, and a year isn’t that long anyway. A lot can happen in that time.”

A lot does happen, and one of them being that Marc-André, after doing his two year stint in emergency services, decides that the hours and pay aren’t worth it anymore (Bernd was honestly shocked and appalled when he found out that Marc was getting paid considerably less than him), decides to do his specialist studies after all and applies at the University Hospital in Düsseldorf to do his anaesthesiology training. When Marc not only gets accepted as a student but also offered a place as a junior doctor with actual paid shifts, they book a holiday to Spain to celebrate.

They spend the first few days in Barcelona, catching up with some of Marc’s friends, and then they pick up their rental car and drive south along the coast until they get to Granada, taking leisurely stops along the way.

“You know it’ll be a while before we get to do this all again?” Marc-André says on their last night before they have to go to Málaga for their flight back to Düsseldorf. “My training is another five years and I’m going to have to go back to being a cheap student again."

“Just as long as we don’t move back to your old shoebox studio, I’ll survive,” Bernd laughs as they walk hand-in-hand back to their hotel after shouting themselves to dinner at the nicest restaurant they could find. “You can make it up to me when you graduate and start making ridiculous amounts of money.”

“I knew you were only with me for my bank account,” Marc complains lightly.

Bernd laughs even louder. “I’ve seen your bank account, Marc! If I was the type to marry someone for money, you wouldn’t even make my list!”

“Thanks a lot,” Marc says, rolling his eyes. “I love you, too.”

“You know there’s no way I can marry anyone _but_ you, right?” Bernd asks after a few minutes of walking in companionable silence. “Finding your soulmate kinda limits your dating choices down to that one.”

“Damn straight,” Marc-André agrees, pulling Bernd to him for a promise-filled kiss, the stars and moon acting as their silent witnesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joshua and Julian house-sit for Marc and Bernd while they are in Spain. You can read about Ju&Jo's stay-cation on [If it ain't broke](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8321287)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is includes how Max-Benjamin came about :P

“A heart worth loving is one you understand, even in silence.”

  
― Shannon L. Alder

 

“Stop fidgeting!” Bernd says, slapping Marc-André’s hand away in order to fix the crooked tie. “You’re just making it worse!”

“Why do I have to wear a _bow_ tie?” Marc asks for the fifth time that morning.

“We are not doing this again,” Bernd tells him. “You agreed; it’s too late to change your mind now.”

Marc just huffs in acceptance.

They’d been arguing over whether Marc really was required to wear a bow tie for Joshua and Julian’s wedding just because Bernd was wearing one, and Marc didn’t really see why he couldn’t just wear a normal tie since he wasn’t part of the wedding party anyway; but as Bernd had repeatedly pointed out, he’d agreed to Joshua’s request when the younger man had asked him, and there was no way he could back out of it now. Marc thinks he looks ridiculous, but obediently goes to look for somewhere to sit with Mario and Marco as Bernd goes to look for Joshua and his sister Deborah to see if at least one of the grooms is ready.

It’s a good day for a wedding (or Life Partners celebration); even if the air is still cold and there was frost on the pavements that morning. The sun is bright and the sky is blue and the large backyard at Joshua’s grandfather’s house is decorated tastefully for the day.

The guests are an eclectic mix of friends from university, family and a handful of both Joshua and Julian’s workmates, and naturally, given what seems to happens at all weddings it doesn’t take long for the not-so-subtle questions of when he and Marc were deciding to get married to start becoming a regular thing. It’s not just friends either, it’s family as well, but it’s not surprising since the people who were doing the asking already knew about the whole soulmate thing, and as Jean-Marcel liked to point out, it’s practically the expected thing for them ever since they first got together.

Most of the time Marc and Bernd get away with just shrugging and saying something rather vague like “we’ll get around to it” or “maybe in a couple of years”, but they’d been _together_ -together (as Marco and Mario liked to point out) for five years now, and they do eventually talk about it seriously a few months after Joshua and Julian’s wedding.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Marc says one evening as they’re preparing dinner, “but who has time to plan? I barely have time to sleep on the weekends and I don’t want you to get stuck with all the preparations.”

“Don’t mention that in front of either our families, then,” Bernd suggests, “because you know they’ll volunteer and we’ll end up with something really over the top.”

Marc hums in agreement, holding out the ladle for Bernd to taste his cooking.

The thing is, Bernd isn’t really all that fussed either, if he’s being honest, and the fact that they are both so incredibly busy with work and studies makes him hesitant to jump into something so time consuming if he knows that neither he nor Marc can give it all their attention. Not that he doesn’t want to get married, of course he does, but right now just isn’t a good time for them. And he’s happy to wait, because not like there’s any worry about them breaking up. But like with a lot of things in their life, a major event makes him seriously think about whether or not it might be a good idea to get married sooner rather than later.

It’s a blustery autumn morning when Bernd and Marc-André head to Frankfurt to visit Joshua and Julian with a presents in tow. It had been fun shopping for baby presents for the younger couple’s new daughter, and they maybe went a little bit overboard with the cute little outfits. Bernd had always enjoyed shopping for his brother’s kids, and now that their friends had a new bub he’d put all that previous experience to good use.

The hospital room is a little bit crowded what with both sets of grandparents and a few of their friends visiting, so they squeeze in and say hello to some familiar faces from the wedding, everyone still talking about the minor miracle that is Johanna Weigl.

Johanna had been a surprise to everyone - including her fathers. Despite putting their names down with the adoption agency a year after their wedding, both Julian and Joshua were extremely surprised that they’d been chosen so quickly, especially considering how young they still were. They’d had to scramble to get all the furniture ready in time for her coming home with them, but they’d already moved into a two bedroom apartment in rather optimistic anticipation (although they hadn’t quite been prepared to use the nursery so soon!) and with the help of friends and Joshua’s mom, they’d gotten everything ready in the short three months notice that they’d been given that they’d been matched. The mother was extremely young and had only decided to give her child up for adoption at the last minute, but had still requested a young couple to take her baby. Julian and Joshua couldn’t be happier - or more terrified.

Bernd finally gets a chance to hold Johanna after half an hour, and of course once he does, the gentle teasing from her fathers start.

“You better watch out or else you might start getting clucky,” Joshua says with a grin.

Bernd rolls his eyes. “I can hold a baby without immediately wanting one of my own; you forget I have a niece and nephew already and I haven’t succumbed yet.”

“Yeah but they were born _before_ you and Marc found each other; it’s different now.”

“Whatever you say, Jo.”

And really, nothing does change. They still go on as they normally do, with Bernd slowly making his way up the company ladder and Marc running himself ragged with work and studies. They’re in Stuttgart visiting with Jean-Marcel and Denise when Marcel quietly announces that they’re pregnant. It’s huge news, because neither Marc’s brother or his wife had mentioned wanting kids recently.

“It’s a bit of a surprise,” Denise laughs when they’re cooing over the ultrasound photos, “but I guess life doesn’t wait on you like you want it to. Sometimes, it’s just _time_ and you just have to embrace it.”

“Do you think maybe there’s no point in us waiting until after you graduate?” Bernd asks hesitantly when they’re tucked into the guest bedroom. “Denise is right; sometimes there isn’t a point in waiting for the “perfect” time.”

Bernd’s heart sinks a little when, rather than respond, all Marc does is pull him close and hold him until they both fall asleep. Marc’s lack of a response is why Bernd’s taken completely by surprise when he comes home from work two weeks later to a candlelit dinner and Marc rather shyly holding out a ring.

“What’s this?” Bernd asks, still not quite taking in what his eyes are seeing.

Marc tenderly takes his hand and pulls him close. “I was thinking maybe it was time, and if you want to, marry me?”

A slow, joyous, almost disbelieving grin spreads across Bernd’s face, then he practically lunges at the startled man, laughing and kissing his ‘yes’.

Marc-André and Bernd get married exactly eight years after Germany win the World Cup in Brazil. Those who don’t know their history comment on them being huge football fans (their friends know better but that doesn’t stop Shkodran and Marco from teasing them mercilessly) and they just smile and agree and share a secret glance. It doesn’t really make much of a difference since they already knew that they were both it for each other, but the ceremony had been nice, and their parents had been happy and it had been in the top three best moments of their lives. Bernd honestly believed that it wasn’t a big deal, but now that they’d gone ahead and done it, he realises it’s what he’s always wanted; he couldn’t imagine being happier than when they’d said their “I dos”.

Neither of them are surprised when the topic of kids gets brought up on a regular basis after that. Their defence to all the questions, is to point out that neither of them actually have time for a kid because of their busy schedules.

“That’s a load of bullshit,” Joshua says calmly when they’re visiting again. He and Julian had been matched for their second child now, and unlike with Johanna, they had much more time to prepare. “Seriously, look at us. Nearly every set of parents in the world has “no time” for a kid if you think about it, but we manage. Once you decide you want them, you _find_ a way.”

Bernd wrinkles his nose. “I’m just trying to cut off all the questions. It’s never ending now that we’re married; can’t people just let us do things at our own pace?”

“It’s the soulmate thing,” Julian says almost apologetically. “Everyone thinks you guys have even less excuse to hesitate about anything because you’ve always been meant to be and all that stuff. It’s so hard even finding a stable relationship nowadays so it’s probably hard for people to imagine why you guys wait so long.”

“Did you come up with that on your own or did you actually hear someone say that?” Marc asks, tone slightly hard.

“I overhead some people say that at your wedding,” Julian admits, slightly embarrassed.

Bernd exchanges a resigned look with Marc. They’d kept the wedding pretty small, but there always seemed to be at least one gossiping relative in every family, and even they weren’t immune to the meddling. Bernd squeezes Marc’s knee in shared irritation.

“Not much we can really do about it, but it’s really no-one’s business but ours,” Marc grimaces. “I am not running my relationship based on what other people’s expectation of how soulmates should be.”

“Good answer,” Joshua smiles. “And it’s not just you guys, don’t worry. You wouldn’t believe how much commentary we got when we adopted so quickly. We got the “you’re too young” and “you should wait until your job is more stable” lines a lot - as though there really is such a thing as guaranteed life jobs anymore. And look us now? We're having two - I bet no-one thought would happen either.”

“Some people need to learn to mind their own business,” Bernd sighs in response.

Because of this, they don’t tell anyone at first when they start looking at their options for kids, having waited until Marc was only a year away from graduating before finally taking the plunge. They know about the adoption choices in Germany, but Marc-André had suggested looking into surrogacy as well after talking to a colleague of his who’d gone to the USA with his wife since when they found out that her womb couldn’t support a child to term.

“It’s expensive and we’d have to make sure we do everything right legal-wise, but they’re willing to help. And I kinda like the idea of having our own genetic babies,” Marc says tentatively. “And if we can’t, well then we can always adopt.”

Bernd would never have even considered it if Marc hadn't suggested it, but now that the idea is out there, it’s all he can think about. Their families are supportive, and once they’re pretty sure they've done all the necessary research to make an informed choice, the decision is made and they fly to California during their summer break.

Sitting in the sterile looking clinic and going round after round of interviews and medical exams and everything else, Bernd is pretty sure he’s never been more exhausted or nervous in his life.

“If this doesn’t pan out then maybe adoption is the way to go,” he says tiredly the night before they fly back to Germany. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this knowing our chances are low.”

“We’ve only just started,” Marc murmurs, brushing his lips against Bernd’s hair. “Don’t give up just yet. We have every chance of making this happen until they tell us no.”

They get the 'yes' and a potential match for a surrogate mother not even two months later. After a month of video calls with the young lady - German-American, to their surprise - and more interviews with the clinic, they fly back to California in the beginning of winter, even more nervous than when they had first started the process.

“Come on,” Bernd says, pulling Marc along by the elbow.

“What for?” Marc asks, frowning.

“I’m not about to jerk off to porn, this is embarrassing enough as it is,” Bernd explains somewhat impatiently. “This is your kid as much as mine, you’re just going to have to provide inspiration.”

Marc protests weakly, but lets himself be dragged along. The room they end up in is plain, sterile, boring. And has lots of inspiration (a quick glance tells Marc that there is enough porn on the bookshelf to cover all preferences).

“You’re freaking out,” Marc guesses, turning back to Bernd who is pacing and slightly pale.

“A bit,” Bernd admits. “I mean, this is it, right? If this happens, we can’t back out now.”

Marc just pulls Bernd to him, wrapping his arms around his husband tightly. “You don’t want to back out,” he whispers soothingly. “We want this. We’ve talked about this for months now and we’ve covered every scenario – we’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna be great dads. _You’re_ gonna be a great dad. The kid’s gonna be fine with us.”

“You don’t know that,” Bernd protests lightly, voicing out the same doubts they’d covered in the past.

“I _do,_ ” Marc says firmly, stepping back enough so that he can look Bernd in the eye. “Do you have any idea how long everyone’s been asking when we were planning on having kids? Fucking _forever_! I got so sick of it I made my mom promise not to bring it up with you – if I didn’t she’d have been nagging as soon as we moved in together and it would have been awkward because it would have been too soon. But we’re ready now, and you’re gonna be fine because everyone can see how good you are with kids. But if you want to back out, we still have time – we can talk about this again later on.”

Bernd doesn’t say anything for a while, then rests his forehead against Marc’s. “I hate when you get all reasonable like that; how am I supposed to argue with you?”

“I want this, too,” Marc says softly, “but I can’t do this without you.”

“Technically you can,” Bernd laughs lightly. “They only need sperm from one of us.”

“Quiet, you,” Marc says, kissing Bernd again.

They spend the next few minutes kissing, letting their bodies react to the intimacy and when they break apart, they’re both visibly hard.

“Technically, they only need one of us for this,” Marc says, repeating Bernd’s words from earlier, “but how do they know which one of us it is without a DNA test?”

Bernd blinks at him. “You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?” he asks, incredulous.

Marc grins mischievously. “Why not?”

“You’re fucking incredible,” Bernd says, shaking his head.

“Is that a ‘no’, then?”

“Of course it’s not,” Bernd says, rolling his eyes before crashing their mouths together again.

Max Benjamin is born a healthy 3.2kg and 59cm long 12 months later, and they’re both maybe just a bit freaked out about how settled the infant is when they take him home.

They’d had to wait the requisite time for the infant to be cleared to come home to Germany, but in that whole period, Max had literally done nothing but feed and sleep. Even on the plane trip he’d barely even stirred aside from to cry to tell them he was either hungry or wanted his nappy changed, and then he’d pretty much gone straight back to sleep once he got what he wanted. Considering all the stories they’d been told and how much preparation they’d made for him, it’s just a tiny bit spooky that Max is so easy to look after.

“He’s sleeping the night, mom,” Marc-André says when Renate comes over on one of her bi-weekly visits.  “That’s not normal, is it?”

His mom just rolls her eyes at them. “All babies are different,” she says calmly, cooing at the baby in her arms, “and you know that. You should be happy he’s not a typically fussy baby.”

Marc gives Bernd a relieved look, because Bernd’s mom had said the same thing as well. Which they’re grateful for because like all new parents, they find themselves floundering around for the few months, nearly always tired and sleep-deprived. Marc-André had used up what little leave he had left then had gone back to his training, but even cutting down on his scheduled work hours, he was constantly exhausted and Bernd had decided to apply for more time off when his three months were up.

Luckily for him, his job had let him go part time instead, and he and Marc didn’t have to worry too about deciding between either not having a steady income or having to send Max to day care much too soon for their liking.

Renate is a godsend, happy to take Max twice a week when Bernd had to go into the office, and even though Bernd’s entire family lived in Bietigheim, his parents came up once a month to stay with them on the weekend. All in all, despite the tiredness, he didn’t think life could get any better than this. In that first year of Max’s birth, they’d learnt to balance work and a baby (“I _told_ you that you’d just find the time,” Joshua had smirked at them, and Bernd had just laughed because the younger dad was right after all) and bickering at each other. It wasn’t easy, of course not; even when it was just them navigating their relationship, it had never been frictionless, both of them having to learn to compromise and navigate their differences. But despite - or maybe even _because_ of all this - Bernd secretly thinks that “perfect” is still the appropriate word to describe his life.

“You’re doing the whole ‘rose tinted glasses’ thing,” Marc teases him fondly. “Once Max starts teething he’s gonna be grumpy and clingy all the time.”

“I know that,” Bernd replies, rolling his eyes. “But you can’t blame me for thinking he’s perfect. It’s a new parent thing, you know.”

Marc just laughs, agreeing because he actually thinks the same thing.

“You think you can take a week off?” Bernd asks him when summer comes around. They’re having a quiet weekend for once, watching Max crawl around all over the place and try to pull himself up so that he’s standing. Bernd is taking the opportunity to try one of Marc’s recipes that he’d always meant to learn how to cook.

“I can check my schedule, what did you have in mind?”

“How about we go away for our anniversary? It can be Max’s first trip on a plane since he came home with us.”

Marc smiles up at him from where he’s helping Max walk along the front of the sofa. “I didn’t think two years marriage was a big celebration.”

Bernd blushes, but comes over to sit with them, eyes bright. “It’s ten years since the World Cup,” he reminds Marc gently. “Ten years since we first started communicating; I think that’s worth celebrating, don’t you?”

Marc-André’s eyes widen in wonder, and Bernd lets out a small squeak of surprise when he gets hauled closer so that Marc can kiss him soundly.

“I take it you agree?” Bernd laughs when Marc finally releases him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention,” Marc murmurs, running his thumb over Bernd’s left wrist. “Anything you want to do, I’m in.”

“No need to apologise, I’m not angry or anything,” Bernd says, bumping their foreheads. “I know it’s cheesy and cliché, but I’m happy as long as it’s us; all I need is you and Max. We don’t really have to go away or do anything big, but I thought it might be nice.”

“It’s a good idea,” Marc agrees, brushing their lips lightly together. “I’ll take any opportunity to be thankful I found my soulmate.”

“Yeah,” Bernd breathes, bringing Marc André’s wrists up to his mouth so can kiss the “B” and “M” tattooed there, a perpetual reminder of exactly who they are for each other. “Me too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been nearly 5 months - yikes - but this story is now _finally_ complete. It's been fun writing nothing but fluff for these guys, and I hope you enjoyed it too. Thanks for reading and all comments - they are much _much_ appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr account ](https://khalehla.tumblr.com) for my writings and random ficlets. If you have a question about this or any of my other stories, come say hi :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I write **fiction** about real people. As far as I know, none of these events ever happened; any resemblance to any actual events are purely coincidental.


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